The Gag
by oflymonddreams
Summary: Wilson decides on a new facet of his & House's screwed-up, messed-up, verging-on-noncon, semi-abusive, seriously don't try this at home, relationship... and House is speechless... really. He doesn't get to say a word.
1. The Gag

**The Gag**

_This is a story in the Closetverse, House and Wilson's dubcon, messed-up, don't-try-this-at-home BDSM relationship: an incident taking place early in 2nd season. But it's also inspired by a scene in Tailkinker's AU version of the CollarVerse, "Pain Control", chapter 5... Enjoy!_

It could have been anything. Wilson had bought the gag some time ago.

"She's such a brave girl," House said. "I want to see how brave she is when you tell her she s going to die."

Wilson was genuinely angry right then. Thinking back, he realised that was what made it good. He'd snarled at House and walked off.

When he showed up at House's apartment, after the case was over, he guessed House had reason to think he was genuinely mad at him. Wilson always took House's cane away before they had a disciplinary session. This time, House practically handed it to him. Wilson didn't want that kind of easy submission. He took the cane and dropped it on the floor, but then he twisted House's arm behind his back and marched him down the hall towards the living room, enjoying how House's breath was coming in short, painful gasps and he was tottering on his bad leg.

Wilson sat down on the sofa and pulled House over his knees. House seemed almost bonelessly relaxed about this, though Wilson knew he'd be squirming, tensed up, soon.

"You've got a nasty mouth, House," Wilson said. "What do you deserve?"

House let out a gasp. Sometimes Wilson let him off their bargain, that he had to ask to be punished, but tonight he didn't think House deserved any bargains. House shifted, uncomfortably, silent.

Wilson undid House's belt, leisurely, and tugged his pants off from his butt, then his undershorts. The scar was just visible. House had a skinny butt, and Wilson put his hand palm down on the left buttock, pinching just a bit.

"Tell me what you deserve, House," Wilson repeated.

House jerked his butt upwards, just a bit. He shivered. Wilson could feel his heart race.

"Tell me," Wilson repeated, menacingly. He moved his hand to the crack between House's buttocks, and fingered it. He wasn't rough and he didn't even try to enter. He just brushed, lightly, teasingly, reminding. If House didn't do as he was told, he might get punished, but he wouldn't get fucked. House liked to be fucked. Wilson liked fucking him, but not nearly as much as he liked punishing House, especially when his friend deserved it.

Wilson paused, his hand stilled on House's bottom. He was waiting. He could feel House shift and shake. He liked this. But after a few minutes, when House hadn't spoken, he sighed loudly.

"Oh well." He rubbed down House's buttocks, not a slap, just a firm grinding of his palm against each asscheek. "I guess you're not going to ask. That will make things worse for you, but I'll enjoy it." He brought his hand down with a firm whack against one cheek, then the other. House gasped. Wilson went on firmly spanking his friend, lecturing him, on how heartless and hurtful House's words had been. How House needed to learn to keep his mouth shut, needed to keep his tongue sweet.

House gasped, and gasped more loudly, and then each gasp was more like a squeal, and finally he was panting and crying, and Wilson slapped louder, harder, his mouth widening in a grin. This kind of over-the-knee spanking was exciting for him in the intimacy of its pain, reminding House that he got what he deserved, that Wilson would care for him and correct him. His hand was stinging by the time he thought House's bottom was the color it should be.

"Now because you couldn't learn to keep your mouth shut - or to talk nicely when I gave you the chance - I've got another lesson for you," Wilson said. He shoved and House landed on the floor, a clumsy painful fall. Wilson got to his feet and went leisurely out of the room. He was going to enjoy this. He came back with the gag he had found in a fetish shop, held so House wouldn't be able to see what it was. House was crouched in front of the sofa, his face red, his breath still coming hard, his legs still entangled in his pants, his butt still embarrassingly bared. Wilson leaned down and petted the reddened buttocks, grinning as House squirmed and tried to push his bottom against Wilson's hand.

"Oh no," Wilson said softly. "You won't be getting fucked today, House. You're still being punished." He took hold of House's hair and tilted his head back and let him see what Wilson was holding: a massive gag, with a mouthpiece that would prop House's jaws open, and buckles and straps to hold it firmly on. House closed his mouth and stared at Wilson pleadingly.

"Oh ho," Wilson whispered. "Quite a dilemma you're in. Well, let me resolve this for you, House. You can open your mouth and safeword, and we're done for tonight. I'll go home, and I'll take this gag with me. You don't have to see it again. Or you can open your mouth and hold it open for me to push this gag in, and I promise, I'll take it out every hour for five minutes so you can drink some water, and I won't make you wear it while I sleep - though I might put it in for a while tomorrow morning. But if you say anything but the safeword when I have the gag out, I'll take the gag and go home. Maybe forever. You don't have anything to say I want to hear."

House waited. For a long moment, his eyes wide and fixed on Wilson, he sat still, silent, shifting and squirming helplessly, shaking his head.

Finally, with a slight involuntary whimper, he opened his mouth, as wide as he could, and was silent.

"The equivalent of a safe word, when you're gagged," Wilson said. "You keep your hands down. If you lift your hands higher than your shoulders, I'll assume you're trying to take the gag off. If you do, it's like you safeworded."

He waited. House nodded, mouth still open. His hands stayed down.

Wilson smiled. He slid the gag into House's mouth, watching with pleasure as House gasped at the feel of it. He strapped it on, fastening the buckles tightly. House sat still, shaking. His jaw moved around the gag, but only a muffled grunt came out.

Wilson grinned. "The only thing wrong with this is that you can't give me a blowjob," he said fondly. He stood up, unzipping his pants, freeing his erect cock. He sat down on the sofa, and stroked himself, watching House, red-faced, red-assed, humiliatingly half-dressed, squirming and grunting, a big gag propping his mouth open. He took his time: when he was close, he made sure he was aiming right at House's face. The spray of cum splattered House.

Wilson lay back on the sofa, comfortable, relaxed, enjoying the afterglow of orgasm, and the sight of House sticky and silenced. "I like you like this," he told House. "I've got to do this to you more often."

_*end*_


	2. An evening at home

_This is not anything I had planned to write but a minor computer disaster has meant I had to work on something different, and what should come up but yet another chapter in the Closet!Verse. As usual, this is the House/Wilson extremely dub-con not safe, sane, or consensual, don't-try-this-at-home relationship._

**An evening at home**

"You don't have to do this," Wilson said, kindly.

He meant it. House hadn't actually done anything very much wrong since the last time Wilson had punished him. He'd yelled at all three of his fellows, he'd shouted at Wilson a couple of times, but nothing out of the ordinary.

House swallowed and looked away, down at his own feet. He was still holding on to his cane. He moved the tip of it, dotting with it, around his own feet.

Wilson was going to gag him, unless House safeworded, just because he liked the look of House's eyes and the grunts House made past the gag. If House safeworded out of the gag, Wilson thought he would put him in the closet for a while - that always excited Wilson, and made House beautifully compliant - and then paddle him till he cried. But gagging House would be better. Wilson had bought several gags, and he was looking forward to trying them all out.

House looked up. "I don't," he said, in a very small voice, "I don't have to wear a gag overnight?"

"No," Wilson assured him. "Or tomorrow morning. Just this evening." He smiled. He could already see that House was going to comply with this, and Wilson had thought of some ways of getting House to enjoy it, too. Closet time was the only thing that Wilson wanted to keep as just for himself (he loved putting House away in the closet, manacling him to the walls, for Wilson alone to take out and enjoy whenever he wanted him, more than anything else): everything else he did to, for, and with House was done for their mutual enjoyment - even the punishments. House loved being punished by Wilson. Wilson's smile broadened to a grin, watching House struggle with acceptance: it would probably be easier for House if this was a punishment, but Wilson didn't want to make it easy.

"Will you collar me?" House asked, still in that small voice. He was eyeing Wilson, almost apprehensively.

"If you're a good boy," Wilson said.

House swallowed again. He handed Wilson his cane. Wilson nodded, pleased. "Just stand there, hands behind your back," he directed, and went down the hall to the closet. He put the cane in with the others, and retrieved the bag he'd left there. House might or might not have seen it, and wondered what might be in it, but he hadn't disturbed it.

When Wilson came into the living room again, House was standing with his legs slightly apart, in a way he could balance on his sound leg and his bad one, with his arms together behind his back, and his head down. Just standing like that, Wilson noticed, had given House an erection: the bulge was visible through his jeans. Wilson put the bag down on the couch, and took out the first gag he planned to use. This wasn't the size he'd made House wear before, as punishment, a gag so big it literally propped House's jaw open: this one had a penis-shaped mouthpiece, long enough and thick enough to fill House's mouth but not uncomfortably.

"Open up," Wilson said, and was delighted when House's mouth opened compliantly, letting Wilson push the mouthpiece in. "You like sucking me off, don't you?" Wilson said. "This gag keeps your mouth in shape for sucking." He fastened the strap behind House's head, and petted his hair. "Now, if you raise your hands above your shoulders of your own will, you're safewording. I'll take the gag out at once. Understand? Nod, if you do."

House nodded, slowly. Wilson ran his thumbs gently round House's lips. "I love seeing you like this," he told him. "You're going to be wearing gags a lot, so you'll have to tell me which one of these tonight you like the best. I wonder if it'll be this one?" He stripped House, not gently - he was careful not to hurt House's leg of course, but he liked being a little rough with House when he was like this, obedient but not yet compliant. He liked the surprised look in House's eyes.

When House was naked, Wilson put him belly down across the coffee table, and made him spread his legs. He checked that House could breathe easily in that position, and told him to stay.

House kept the dildos and buttplugs that Wilson had bought for him, in the bathroom closet. He kept them clean and ready for Wilson to use: Wilson had never seen any indication that House used them on himself when Wilson didn't have time to fuck him. Wilson wondered sometimes how entertaining that would be, to discover that House was so desperate to be fucked he fucked _himself_, purely for his own pleasure without Wilson there to watch. If Wilson ever found out that House did that, he thought he would set up a schedule, make sure House did it regularly, reported back to Wilson. It would be another thing to punish House for, if he wasn't compliant.

House was still in position when Wilson came back, with lube and three fat buttplugs with flat bottoms. House couldn't see what Wilson was carrying, but he would know it had to be either a buttplug, a dildo, or a paddle: Wilson positioned House like this either for fucking or punishment.

Wilson petted House's ass. The cheeks were very pale: House would look better if he was reddened a bit. But Wilson thought he would wait for that. House would have five minutes out of the gag: it would be better if House asked for Wilson to spank him. The next gag would let House make noises, too.

The smallest plug went in easily. House squirmed as WIlson penetrated him with it. Wilson pulled him to his feet, and made him sit down on the coffee table, legs spread wide, showing off his erect cock. Then Wilson sat down on the couch, and leant back, luxuriating in the view: House with his hands flat on the table, his butt plugged, his mouth plugged.

"I like seeing you like this," Wilson told him. He switched on the TV, and channel-hopped till he found a movie he wanted to watch. He turned the sound down and picked up the phone. "The next gag will let you eat what I feed you."

Wilson ordered a lavish meal for one from their favorite Chinese restaurant. A lavish meal for one, a sensible meal for two: House wouldn't know for sure if he was getting any of it.

Actually, Wilson quite enjoyed House stealing his food. Wilson could always punish him for it, and he liked the brazen way House did it. House never made clearer that he liked the structure Wilson gave him.

House had been wearing the gag for fifty minutes when the doorbell rang. Food delivery. Wilson stood up, leisurely, and smiled to see how House flinched and his eyes flickered, worried that he was going to be exposed. Someday, Wilson would like to arrange that for House: to have him on display, exposed like this.

Wilson paid the delivery man and tipped him: he came back to House with the bag of fragrant food, putting it down on the table beside him, and unstrapped the gag. House licked his lips and eyed Wilson, keeping his hands down. He didn't say anything. Wilson kissed him, tongue exploring House's mouth.

"I'm going to feed you," he assured House. "But you've got five minutes now till the next gag, and I think I'd like it if you asked me to make your ass red." He kissed House again. "Do you want to make me happy?"

"I ... " House swallowed. "Please."

Wilson nodded. "Do you want me to collar you?"

"Yes," House said, with more fervor.

Wilson nodded, his fingers on House's lips. "Then ask me."

"Please..." House sounded unconvinced. "Please spank me," he said. He didn't sound as if he meant it. Wilson frowned.

"Not very sincere," he said critically. "Over the table."

The narrower plug came out. Wilson lubed up the next-fatter one, and pressed it in. He grinned to see House quiver and jerk. "Filling you up," he promised House. "I want you like this, just like this, for the next hour." He sat House down on the table again. "Good," he said, watching House's eyes widen, feeling him shiver. The next gag had a tube mouthpiece that House's lips closed round readily. Wilson grinned at him and went over to the fridge. He'd stored a bag of liquid food there, and a funnel.

House was going to get fed. Wilson put the bag into the microwave for the set amount of time, and went back to the couch to open up his Chinese meal. He enjoyed the first carton of pork and rice with black bean sauce, watching House's eyes widen. When the microwave pinged, Wilson finished eating, and went back to the kitchen to get the bag and the funnel.

He loved the way House's eyes were wide and fixed on him. House's hands were quivering, flat on the table, as if House didn't dare move them in case he accidentally "safeworded". House's mouth was quivering around the gag. Muffled grunts came out.

"This is quite safe," Wilson promised, "so long as you swallow, steadily and continuously. If you have any difficulty, you're to safeword at once - I won't tolerate it if you put yourself at risk. Clear?"

House swallowed, nodded. Wilson put the funnel into the mouthpiece of the gag, and tipped House's head up, quite gently. He fitted the tip of the bag into the funnel. "Oh, good boy," he said, watching the warm liquid food rush into the funnel, and House start swallowing.

The liquid food was balanced, but tasted of nothing very much but a bland sweetness. A whole bag would give House a sensation of fullness in his stomach, without any sense of having eaten a meal. Oh this was good: this was even better than having House in the closet, knowing that he had House here beneath his hands, his mouth and throat filled with food Wilson had forced on him, his anus filled with a plug Wilson had stuffed him with. Wilson's lips parted in a grin: he was so aroused he found it unexpectedly hard to focus on keeping the funnel and bag upright, the flow even. When the bag was empty, he took the funnel out and bent over House, rubbing his stomach. House leaned into his touch, quivering.

"Good boy," Wilson murmured, tense with anticipation. "Oh you're such a good boy."

The gag's mouthpiece was wet with food. House stared at him, seemingly confused. Wilson wiped the outside of it clean with a towel, and buckled the collar on. House looked happier, as far as Wilson could tell, but still confused. Wilson moved the cartons out of the way, and unzipped his pants.

The food might get cold, but that was what microwaves were for. Wilson wanted to come, to watch House deal with a splatter of come in his face and on his body that he could not move his hands to wipe up. He owned House. He touched himself, watching House squirming, involuntarily, on the plug that filled him, a belly full of food Wilson had put there, his mouth gagged -

Wilson came.

After a few minutes, he tidied himself up. He smiled, watching House. There was a third gag he meant to try, but House still had to wear this one for twenty minutes or so. Time to relax and just enjoy _his_ House. All his.

_*tbc?*_


	3. The gutpunching conclusion

_This is part 3 of a story that was meant to be a kinky little one-shot! I've been working on a long story with Tailkinker (my favorite stalker, tee hee) and I needed to write something a bit different again before I got back to Season 2 of the Collarverse ... so I dived into the Closetverse! Despite the long gap between writing the chapters, this one begins minutes after chapter 2 ends._

The last buttplug Wilson had got out of the bathroom closet was one he'd only used once before. House had called it the "Gutpuncher". Not when Wilson had lubed it and pushed it inside him: then he'd wept and jerked like a puppet with twisted strings and eventually come like a geyser. The next day, and then again a couple of days afterward, he'd asked Wilson, quietly and hesitantly "You're not going to use the Gutpuncher again?"

But he hadn't got rid of it. The thing still lay at the back of his closet, a brutal engine that made Wilson smile each time he'd opened the closet door and looked inside; because if House _really_ hadn't wanted the Gutpuncher again, he would had got rid of it months ago. It wasn't just the width, but the length that made it so brutal; it was obviously very hard for House to take.

The mouthpiece of the third gag was a long one. Wilson showed it to House while he was still plugged with the feeding-tube. "This one is meant to give you practice in deep-throating." House's eyes widened. He couldn't see the Gutpuncher where Wilson had laid it down, and Wilson grinned, thinking about it.

He took out the feeding gag at the end of the hour, telling House soothingly what a good boy he was, how well he'd taken his meal. He gave House a little water, and got him on his belly over the coffee-table to take out the second butt-plug. When House was empty and naked except for his collar, Wilson got him to sit down on the floor between his legs, and finished off his own meal, before putting the leftovers away in the fridge. They might eat them later as a midnight snack.

Wilson had pilfered the bag of liquid food from the hospital, but he could buy in supplies. It would actually be good for House to get regular, nourishing meals. Wilson was getting hard again just thinking about it: making a regular date to fit House with the feeding tube gag and fill his belly with food. They could even do it in Wilson's office, though they didn't usually have sex at work - but this wouldn't really be sex, it would be for House's own good. If he did that, he wouldn't use the buttplugs, or make House be naked. Just make him kneel down by Wilson's chair and gag him and fill him.

House hadn't moved or spoken since Wilson let him sit between his legs, but when Wilson sat down on the couch again and reached for the gag, he looked up and offered a blowjob: silently, unusual for House, but quite obviously, using his lips and tongue.

"No," Wilson said gently. "I want this." He fitted the gag around House's head, and slid the mouthpiece in. He tilted House's face to the right angle, and slid the mouthpiece just a bit further in, pulled it out again, amusing himself with this for a few minutes, fucking House's mouth with the gag. He locked the mouthpiece at a safe length - it would hold down House's tongue but not block his throat, and for the first time this evening, let House see the Gutpuncher.

The wail House made was audible even through the gag. He was shaking all over, shaking his head, but his hands stayed down. His eyes were full of tears. He looked at Wilson desperately, muffled grunts of distress coming through the gag. Wilson smiled at him, and shifted his position a little, so House could see how hard he was getting. House had been in a state of quivering arousal for hours, his cock rising and falling but never actually going soft: the Gutpuncher would make him come. House knew it.

For this they'd use the sofa. Wilson folded House like a big doll, petting him and stroking him and telling him he was a good boy. He stuffed his ass with thick lube, and lubed up the Gutpuncher. Squealing wordless grunts came out of House's plugged mouth as Wilson slid the massive tool inside him, slowly, making him feel every inch. It was like impaling House, making him a flesh doll that was stuck onto this thing and had no choice but to wriggle and cry.

The Gutpuncher came with a harness - an easy one to get out of, just intended to hold the thing inside physically. Wilson strapped it into House and lay down beside him on the sofa and put his arms round him. He was still wearing suit and tie and would have to send it to the drycleaner's after this, but he was too eagerto feel House, impaled at both ends, to worry about that right now.

Wilson was looking right into House's blue, panicked eyes. He smiled at House, feeling him quiver at the weight of the Gutpuncher inside him. He unlocked the gag mouthpiece and pushed it deeper, grinning at House fought to keep his head at the right angle. He petted him and praised him, feeling him jerk and twist and each move shifted the massive dildo in his guts, and finally he spilled, messing up Wilson's trousers and shirt. He was lying still, limp all over, and Wilson undid the gag and unharnessed and slid out the Gutpuncher.

Making House get up and walk in this state wasn't difficult, but it was tricky keeping him upright: he'd fall readily, not seeming to notice if he hurt himself. Wilson got him to the bedroom. He undressed himself and picked up a paddle - fucking House would be boring when he was in this state - and positioned House over his own lap. He wanted to see House's pale butt reddened up, and told him so, not bothering with a scolding which House wouldn't remember in the morning. But even in this state a hard paddling could make House twitch and cry, and that would be enough to get Wilson his second orgasm of the evening.

Wilson came with his cock pressed against House's belly, House wrapped around Wilson, soaking the bed with tears. Wilson lay down and pulled the covers over them both, holding a limply exhausted House in his arms. "That was great," he told House.

"Please..." House whispered: Wilson was surprised he could still speak. "Don't use the gutpuncher again..."

Wilson smiled, hugging House closer. The Gutpuncher was actually just a training exercise. House took it very well.

Next time, Wilson was going to fist him.

**end**


End file.
